


Crotch Rocket

by esteefee



Series: POI Ficlets [5]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: M/M, Motorcycles, Pre-Slash, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 07:55:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>leupagus: Finch/Reese, Reese takes Finch on a ride on the back of his bike.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crotch Rocket

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leupagus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leupagus/gifts).



"I know what I said." Finch sounds irritated as he takes the brand-new Shoei helmet and inspects the dragon design patterned on the side with an eyebrow lift that says, _Really, Mr. Reese?_   "I just think the weather's a little - "

"Oh, you'll be fine," John says, stifling a grin, and hands him a heavy leather jacket.  It's a Hein Gericke with full body armor - not that John plans to get into any scrapes, but nothing but the best for Finch, who puts down the helmet and takes the jacket with no little reverence. He slips it on over his wool vest, the combination making John smile until he reaches out and zips Finch in, snapping the tab at the top and then patting Finch's padded shoulders.

"You're all set," John says.  Finch looks entirely different, despite the glasses - he looks like a geek on a mission to kick some ass.  John hands him his helmet and leads the way down to the garage where his bike is waiting.

"You will exercise a little caution, won't you?" Finch says as John flips down the passenger foot pegs and climbs aboard, heeling back the side-stand. He hits the button for the garage door.

John answers as he straps on his own helmet, "I would if that was what you were really after."  He smiles when Finch climbs on behind him, his weight shifting the bike as Finch lifts his feet onto the pegs, a silent act of faith that warms John's chest. 

John cranks the throttle once and starts up the bike, the engine thrumming deep in the enclosed space, and Finch's hands creep around his waist to press tight just under his ribs.

"Let's go, Mr. Reese," Finch yells in his ear, sounding suddenly eager, as if the thrum of the engine has reminded him of his last, reckless ride.

"You got it." John toes her into gear and with a squeal of rubber they shoot off into the streets, Finch holding onto him tight, tight.

_End._

 


End file.
